In Dubio Pro Reo
by Miss Shannon
Summary: Alternate Universe Miss Parker, a successful young lawyer from Boston, finds herself faced with a case that will shatter anything she has ever believed in... on hiatus. Back soon!
1. Prelude

**Prologue **

**Author's Note: **Please note that this is an AU-story. I have been toying with the idea of writing them into the legal field for a while now and I'll have a shot with it now. Let's see how it turns out, huh? ;)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything. So keep your lawyers in check. ;-)

"Freeze! Put that knife to the floor and keep your hands where I can see them!" A steady voice cut through the night and he was blinded by a sudden beam of light. Desperate to shield his eyes from it, he jerked up his arm and pressed his hand onto his aching eyeballs.

"I said put your hands where I can see them!" the voice repeated and footsteps approached, accompanied by the lighter tapping of paws. He could distinguish the low growl of what had to be a large dog and swallowed. He had always been afraid of dogs.

"Please…" he whispered, but his plea for mercy was lost in the crescendo of voices around him. He finally remembered to obey their orders and dropped the knife, the blade causing an almost musical noise on the tiles.

His breaths came ragged and the sweat of fear trickled down between his shoulderblades as a bulky man in a dark jacket approached him, his 9 mm Smith and Wesson, the FBI standard weapon, raised.

"Don't make a move," he said, more gently now, as if not willing to startle the suspect.

He remained frozen in place, his hand shielding his poor eyes. He could feel something liquid smudging his eyes and a scream began to form in his throat when the metal stench of blood evaded his nostrils.

He dropped his hands and frantically blinked to restore his eyesight.

Choking with fear he looked down onto his hands and found them smeared with dark-red blood. Stumbling backwards, he slipped on the tiles and fell into the horror that surrounded him.

Blood covered the white tiles, was smeared in grotesque patterns all around him.

He felt strong hands grip his arms firmly and as they came together on his back and the distinctive clicking of handcuffs rattled his ears. Then he spotted the body, slumped on the floor only inches away from him.

And finally, he screamed.


	2. What's in a name?

**Chapter One**

It was a busy morning at McDermid, Munger and Crace, the corridors of the distinguished office bristling with activity. But while secretaries were on their way with files, paralegals accompanied ever-busy lawyers on their brisk march to the elevator, feeding them with what their researches had turned up, a dark-haired woman took her time to tend to the small child that was looking rather lost in one of the tastefully furnished waiting- areas.

"Hey there." She gave the little boy a wide smile and sat down next to him on the upholstered couch. "Are you waiting for your parents?"

The little boy looked up and smiled tentatively, freckles dotting his nose.

"Yes," he replied. "They are in there with their lawyer."

The dark-haired woman ruffled his hair affectionally. "I don't think they will be long anymore. Anyway, would you care for a glass of orange juice in the meantime?"

It was obvious that the boy was torn between accepting the tempting offer and what his parents had told him. Obviously, the latter won.

"I am sorry, Ma'am. I am not to accept anything from strangers."

The woman smiled again and her blue eyes twinkled. "That is very wise. Anyway, you are safe here. We're only good people here…"

As if to oppose her statement, the door the little boy had just pointed at, opened up and revealed his parents accompanied by a tall lawyer whose face presented a smile to the clients that would vanish as soon as their eyes would turn away.

The dark-haired woman jumped to her feet and smoothed her skirt over her legs when the eyes of the lawyer met hers.

"Not busy, Margaret?" The snide voice asked. "Curious, as I clearly remember providing you with enough research work to keep you here into the wee hours."

Margaret dropped her head and sent a furtive glance to the clients who, having already said their farewell to their lawyer, scooped up their kid and headed for the elevator, unaware of her misery.

"I… I am sorry, Miss Parker," she whispered.

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Miss Parker replied harshly. "This is a law-firm, not a kindergarten. Your unhealthy infatuation with people under twelve, however 'cute' you might consider them to be has to stay out of the office. I presume that I have made myself clear?"

Margaret nodded, close to tears now.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You may return to your desk now."

Margaret didn't need a second invitation and hurried away as if chased by furies.

"No too bad, Sis."

A tall good-looking man stepped out of a corner and smiled widely at Miss Parker who had crossed her slender arms in front of her tailored jacket and gave him a sly grin.

"Yeah, I would say I am in for most terrifying partner this year."

She ran her tongue along her front teeth which made made her resemble a cat who had just hunted down and feasted on her prey.

"Oh, I am good competition, Sis. You were just lucky that she has taken on to another kid."

"Oh don't even try, Robert. I am definetly the meanest thing on television," she retorted. "If you'll excuse me now? I have some work to do on my newest million dollar deal."

She turned on her stilletto heel and was about to head back to her office when a harrassed-looking secretary stumbled along the corridor. Miss Parker rolled her eyes at the obvious indignity that she herself would never display, for Miss Parker didn't run anywhere but in the gym.

Coming to a skidding halt somewhere dangerously close to where Miss Parker considered her personal space, the secretary drew a rattling breath. Smoothing her blonde curls away from her wide eyes, she handed Miss Parker a crumpled letter she had been clutching in her hand.

"It's.. urgent!" she gasped.

Miss Parker didn't as much as spare her a glance and simply waved her away with her free hand.

"What is it?" Robert tried to peer onto the official- looking letter.

"Would you mind?" she snatched the letter away from his curious eyes and retreated into her large office. Miss Parker was too busy and rather too used to the spectacular view over Boston Harbor to actually notice the sun glitter on the soft waves or watch the catboats sail along peacefully.

Instead she rounded her cherrywood desk and leaned back in the comfortable leather chair, never taking her eyes off the document in her hand.

"Delaware…" she murmured. "Why would I…?"

The chirping of her cell-phone startled her and she snapped it open with one hand.

"What?" she barked, her hand holding the letter only shaking slightly for a split second.

"Miss Parker?" A warm deep voice asked, reminding her immediatley of the taste of the good, matured whiskey she preferred.

"Speaking," she snapped. "Who is there?"

"Timothy Jones. FBI field office in Delaware. Have you received our letter?"

"Indeed I have," she replied. "Curious, though. Why would you be so concerned with that man's defense?"

The answer to her question was a deep heartfelt sigh.

"We are a very close-knit community here, Miss Parker. It would take a whole evening and two bottles of wine to explain it all to you."

Totally unlike herself Miss Parker started to chuckle, then, realizing what she was doing, restrained herself.

"I see, Mister Jones. And why is it that you contact me of all lawyers? I am sure that there a plenty of brillant criminal-defense lawyers in your jurisdiction. I wouldn't know why you'd pick me. Especially since I actually do not practice criminal law anymore."

Again, Jones gave a short sigh.

"I suggest you just catch a plane and come over. It really is a complicated matter."

"Mister Jones, why would I leave my firm for an unspecified period of time for a criminal trial that I don't even understand why I was hired for?"

There was a brief moment of hesitation at the other end of the line, then Jones cleared his throat in an uneasy sort of way.

"As of now you can't quite understand yet, I can only assure you that there is a good reason why you have been called for the defense."

Miss Parker now allowed herself a chuckle- but not an amused one.

"Listen to me, Jones. I am a lawyer, not a travelling circus. If I should even consider crossing state boundaries to take the case, I want to know the good reason I am sure you have."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "You are exactly how I pictured you to be, Miss Parker," he said. "The reason is simple. The defendant has personally requested you as his counsel."

"Impressive," Miss Parker replied dryly. "If that is so, you might want to advise him to just stand in line with all the others."

She could tell from Jones's tone of voice that he was going to deliver the final blow to her resistance. "Yes, but he didn't simply request Miss Parker from McDermid, Munger and Crace. He wanted Barbara Marie Parker."

Miss Parker almost choked on the sip of coffee she had taken from the black cup emblazed "It's all about the CLOSING", an inside-joke-based present from her brother. When she had regained her composure, she cleared her throat to buy some time, then admitted: "Well… you can't simply google that."

If Jones enjoyed his victory, he was too polite to let it show.

"So I have heard. Listen, Miss Parker, I don't know much more about the case than you do, but I have a feeling that it might be interesting to you."

"When is the preliminary hearing set for?" she asked after a pause.

"Tomorrow morning."

She sighed deeply and covered her eyes with her hand for a moment.

"Sign me up."  
"I'll e-mail you the details," he said, sounding relieved, a detail which Miss Parker considered suspicious somewhere at the corners of her confused mind, but filed away for later inspection.

When they had hung up, she stared at her ridiculous coffee-cup and shook her head slightly.

_Nobody_ knew her first name. Strange enough she had gone by her last name for so long that nobody even cared anymore. For reasons that she didn't even like to share with her brother, she hadn't even allowed her lovers to call her anything else than _Parker_, which was the closest to an informal address that anyone ever got. Well, except for her brother's incurable _Sis_, that was.

Not even the authorities were supplied with more than a simple B. Parker. A lucky guess would explain Barbara, but this man couldn't be clever enough to actually come up with her middle name all by himself.

Actually she would have liked to forget about the whole affair again, but unfortunately she had always been curious… and pretty damn paranoid when it came to her first name and her history.

This had better be good. She didn't use the few weeks of vacation she could take every year on trials if it wasn't good.

* * *

Special Agent Jones spotted the lawyer from Boston before she saw him. Easy, since he'd seen her picture in the papers often enough, whereas she had probably no idea what he looked like. She was even more spectacular in real life, he admitted to himself. Wearing a tailored black suit that hugged her perfect figure really well and moving quickly but elegantly on incredibly high heels, her black hair shone in the warm glow of the late summer sun.

She was carrying a small silver briefcase and a suitcase. He wondered whether he should take for her. Somehow she didn't strike him as the type.

"Miss Parker?" he asked when she came towards him and he was immediatley surveyed by her intellingent blue eyes before she accepted his extended hand.

"Special Agent Jones, I presume," she said in a professional manner that did not allow for either kindness or unkindliness.

He nodded, motioning towards the exit.

"Great that you could come on such short notice," he said and meant it, considering the fact that they had been on the phone for the first time mere hours ago.

She simply gave him a short smile.

"Seems like I was a travelling circus after all…" she said sarcastically.

He grinned. "We really appreciate that. I have already scheduled an appointment with the local lawyer that will assist you in the case. He has also been personally requested."

"Sounds interesting."

As soon as they sat in his car speeding along a fairly quiet road, Miss Parker glanced at Jones from the corner of her eye. He certainly wasn't in for sexiest man alive, but there was a pair of kind, intelligent eyes in his rather raw-looking face. Frankly she would have rather pictured him as a farmer in a checkered flanel-shirt instead of wearing a suit and tie.

She regarded the road sign announcing their forthcoming arrival in the town of Blue Cove and leaned back into her seat, staring thoughtfully through the windscreen. Never heard of that goddamn place. It was pretty enough, though, she admitted as they drove through the town center, basically a long road lined with small shops selling souvenirs, flowers and other colorful dispensable items.

She spotted small families and happy couples. It looked as if Blue Cove was a town where happiness reigned and problems consisted of picking out the color for the curtains. But then again murder could happen anywhere. Even in the most peaceful of places. She finally flipped open the folder Jones had handed her, finding herself faced with the body of a man covered in blood. She read the police-report, finding it quite conclusive. It certainly didn't have much to offer that would have presented anything resembling a good foundation for the defense. The defendant had been discovered, weapon still in his hand, crouching next to the victim. Not much left to speculation. The man hadn't said anything, hadn't offered an alibi, hadn't confessed. The only thing he had requested had been two lawyers.

She sighed. What the heck was she dealing with?

* * *

After explaining that he still faced a frightening mountain of paperwork tonight and promising that he would drop her luggage off at her hotel, Jones left her standing in front of a wealthy family's former townhouse that had been converted into an office building housing an insurance company on the first, a private eye on the second and a one-man law-firm on the third floor. How very charming, Miss Parker thought sarcastically as she climbed the stairs to her desired destination.

Rather charming the spacious, airy rooms were indeed. The entrance-door led into a anteroom that housed an elderly, bored-looking secretary with bluish grey curls and a cardigan that would have sent Miss Parker sprawling had she been faced with it outside of official business. But now she simply tried to ignore its screeching color and attempted a smile.

"Parker," she introduced herself briskly. "I am here to talk to Mister Harris."

"Sure, dear. You must be Barbara."

The woman's temper was far too bright for Miss Parker's liking. It wouldn't be quite easy enough to ignore her.

"I would prefer you to not use my first name," she said icily. "In fact I would be quite glad if you tried to forget about it again."  
"Sure, dear."

Miss Parker refrained from telling the old bat not to call her "dear" either since she suspected that she would either disobey or come up with an even worse labeling.

She was saved, hoewever, from more contact with her by the entrance of a tall man with wavy black hair, wearing dark suit trousers and a crumpled shirt adorned with a losened red tie.

"Linda, where is…?"

It took him a moment to realize Miss Parker's presence, then he frantically consulted his watch.

"Is it that late already? Couldn't you have warned me, Linda?"

"To have another of your PEZ-dispensers thrown at me because I disobeyed your order to not disturb you? No thanks, Sir."

He looked sheepish, then marched towards Parker and grabbed her hand.

"Thank you for coming. I hope you didn't have to wait. Please… come through to my office."

Miss Parker followed the disorganized man into his office and found herself faced with mountains of files that didn't seem to be organized in any system she recognized. Lined up on his surprisingly tidy desk sat twelve PEZ-dispensers sporting heads of Disney characters. She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

He gestured towards a small overloaded conference-table in the corner that looked as if it would collapse under the weight of yet more files any minute and even pulled the chair out for her.

"Well then, Mister Harris…" she began, but was immediately interrupted.

"Please call me Jarod!"

She shrugged, ready to move on, when he cocked his head and regarded her for the first time. The look in his dark-brown eyes was clearly scrutinizing and yet showed a trace of something she couldn't identify.

"Haven't we met before?"

She pretended to have to look at him more closely which allowed her to take in his slightly stubbled face, the square jaw and the broad, well muscled shoulders under the shirt.

"No. I don't think so."

It was his turn to shrug now.

"Well…" he trailed off, then pulled a file off the mountain just next to him as if it was the most common way to stash files and opened it, sliding it across the table for Miss Parker's inspection. She looked at the photo of a rather distinguished-looking elderly man with unruly white hair and surprisingly kind eyes. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the name given on the notorious police-plate he was holding: _Sydney Green_.

A name she hadn't heard before in her life.

**TBC**


	3. Looking back

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: **See part one

**Author's Note: **Yes that did take me a long time, but I finally managed to complete the second chapter. Would you reward me with some reviews in turn? Pleeeeease... ;-)

* * *

**Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachussetts- seven years ago**

Jerking awake with a start, Barbara Parker was only too aware of the firm hand that gripped her arm and, not even fully awake, did her best to free herself of it. Panic rising, she gave a scream that was immediatley muffled by a second hand.

"For god's sake, Sis, get a grip!"

Relief flooded her and her tense body relaxed almost immediatley.

"Bobby! I'll kill you! What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice still shaky, her limbs trembling as the images from her dream slowly dissolved.

"Annie called me over."

The usual mischief on her brother's handsome face had given way to a worried expression that even she as his sister hadn't been witness to too often.

He pointed at Miss Parker's roomate Annie who looked the same as usual: Frightened beyond compare. Well, despite her youthful age, Miss Parker was already quite used to having that effect on people.

"Well, why? Just because of my having a stupid bad dream and thrashing around a bit?"

Even as she was saying it, she realized that it couldn't have been just that. Her pajamas clung to her sweaty skin, her sheets were wrapped around her legs and she was still shaking. Anyway, Annie was almost as frightened of Robert as she was of her so that she would think twice about rousing him early on a Saturday morning.

"Sis, when I came in you were screaming and thrashing so violently that I was quite concerned you'd fall out of your bed. Is it…?"

Before he could finish the sentence, Miss Parker finally got a grip on herself and pushed the covers back, motioning for her roommate to get out. Annie was all too happy to comply and shuffled off to the library with her books. How she was ever going to make a decent lawyer, Miss Parker didn't know.

When the door had closed behind the frightened girl, Miss Parker finally got out of bed and wandered towards the window that overlooked the campus which, at this time of the year, was covered in snow.

"It's the same old nightmare, isn't it?" Robert asked softly.

She simply nodded and felt unwanted tears brimming in her eyes.

"Annie said this wasn't the first time. How long have you been having it again?" Robert inquired further.

Only too aware of the fact that there wasn't much she could hide from her twin, Miss Parker shrugged. "About two months. But apparently today has been worse than before."

Robert approached her slowly, resting his hand on her shoulder in a simple but comforting gesture.

"Sis, you should have told me."

"So you could send me off to a shrink like Mom and Dad did?" she replied more harshly than intended, but her brother knew her ways far too well to be put off by them.

"No. Just because I guess you might have needed to get it off your chest."

Miss Parker smoothed her tousled hair back from her face and took a deep breath.

"Well, now you know."

She fully turned around now, finally facing him. Their blue eyes met and she was amazed again just at how well they understood each other beyond words.

"Look…"  
"I won't tell our parents."

She smiled for the first time. "Thank you."

He carefully seized her by the shoulders: "And Sis, if you ever feel frightened again… don't hesitate to call me over."

She gave him a humorless smile. "You know I won't."

**Blue Cove, Delaware- the present**

Even in the short time it had taken her to serve coffee, Linda had once again proven to be exactly the pain Miss Parker had thought she would be. Sweetly inquiring whether they needed anything else ("Doughnuts? Candy? Cake? Cookies? Or anything else for the sweet teeth of yours? You certainly look a little too skinny for my liking, love.") she had finally been ushered from the room by Jarod just as Miss Parker had felt herself about to explode.

Her nails scratched dangerously across the tabletop as she pulled the file towards her and skimmed the reports again, noting that her old skills were still remarkably present.

She looked up from the documents to the unmistakable sound of munching. Jarod Harris was obviously enjoying the cookies splendidly.

"Well, Mister Harris, what would have dragged _you_ into this case?" she asked finally, while he was busy wiping crumbs off his tie.

"Mister Green obviously," he replied. "The files were dropped on me this morning."

"Do you specialize in criminal law?" she asked, desperately hoping for him to having stood his share of criminal trials. Having a rookie by her side wouldn't help matters much.

"I'm not specialized in much of anything. I do whatever is needed. Contracts, divorce, tax… make your pick."

She narrowed her eyes, unsure of whether he was joking or not.

"That sounds like an awful lot of knowledge you must be storing inside that head of yours," she said bluntly.

He shrugged without the tiniest trace of arrogance. "Might be."

Parker leaned back and snapped the file shut. The details were spare enough to memorize rather quickly.

"What do we pledge? Temporal insanity? Because that seems to be all we can hope for since he's been discovered with the murder weapon in hand next to the victim."

Jarod nodded, brows knitted thoughtfully. That solemn expression was quite sexy on him, she noticed and could barely suppress a grin. The glasses laying on the desk had not escaped her notice and picturing him with them on sent a strange and unexpected tingle through her body. Great, now she was in some city far away from home, working on a case she had taken due to sheer curiosity and was now also lusting after her newly found colleague.

"That might be all we are able to do."

"Have you had any contact with our client yet?" Miss Parker asked.

"Not yet. He has not requested a lawyer while he was questioned by the police. Simply said absolutely nothing, then later handed them a note asking for the two of us."

Miss Parker sighed, yesterday's nightshift beginning to show.

"Why us?" she wondered, speaking her thoughts aloud consciously.

"You are quite the mahatma in the field of criminal trial law, Miss Parker."

"Were", she snapped, realizing too late how aggressively she had spoken these words. He looked slightly taken aback for a moment, then shrugged.

"Why have you given it up?"

She felt her stomach contract slightly and felt her hands turn sweaty. It was all she could do not to squirm in her seat.

"The money," she finally stated much more firmly than she had thought she would be capable of. The strain became easier to bear and she felt her tense muscles relax slightly. Why on earth hadn't she thought of this? Why had she allowed her curiosity -that had mislead her so often- to drag her into this head over heels? What had she thought? That this would be just another murder-trial? That it wouldn't end the way the last one had?

A very well known saccarine voice that had been echoing through her dreams constantly every night for months returned, breathy and throaty and terribly real: "Thank you, love."

"Miss Parker?" She realized that her hand had flown down to her right hip where her skin was tingling with the memory of… She shook her head and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry, Jarod. I'm sorry. I am just tired. Worked all last night."

"I hope the money is worth it," he said, gently and the warmth of his voice seemed to drown the memory of the dreaded one in her head. It felt like a caress and before she knew it, her fear had been replaced with arousal.

"I keep forgetting that the human body needs rest and nurturing once in a while," she attempted a joke to hide the inner turmoil she was struggling with.

He smiled, another becoming expression on him although she preferred the dark brooding that gave him a mysterious air. God no, the last thing she needed was sexual tension between them. Not that she was sure it was mutual, yet.  
What was wrong with her? She usually turned men into her lapdogs by a seductive gaze from her blue eyes (maybe the reason why she was so bored with most of them) but now she seemed to be the one mesmerized.

Maybe she should take Robert up on his offers to hit Boston's nightlife more often instead of working through the night, she thought, because then she wouldn't be so seriously…

"Miss Parker?" Jarod asked and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long day."  
He grinned. "Not to worry. I was thinking along the same lines and wondered whether you would mind if we moved this conversation to a restaurant to have some dinner. There is not much we can do before we have spoken to Mr. Greene, anyway."

Miss Parker was nursing her third glass of beautifully chilled Pinot Grigio and felt exceptionally off-guard faced with the prospect that the conversation had moved from the case to their private lives. Jarod had just told a very entertaining story about his old batty neighbour who owned a number of ancient cats that liked to meow throughout the night and drove him nuts.

He sipped his wine and watched her eat the last bit of her chicken salad while he was still in the middle of the mountain of french fries that accompanied a giant steak.

"So what got you into law?" he asked and she, glad to be on familiar territory, replaced her cuttlery neatly on the clean plate and folded her hands in front of her.

"Well, my father is a judge, my mother used to be a legal secretary. I sort of grew up with it as did my twin-brother."

"You have a twin?" he asked, curiosity lightening up his face. Miss Parker was actually quite picky about whom she told any private details, but tonight she somehow didn't feel the paranoia that was normally a constant companion. Stupid, she thought fleetingly. _I of all people should know that attraction to a man can drown out all of your common-sense._

Still, she didn't mind much right now. It was like getting horribly drunk- it would be over in the morning and even if you had a hangover, you could get over it all.

"Yes. His name is Robert. We were at law-school together."

This time she returned his smile, feeling better instantly as she felt her mood lift.

"Sounds like you two have a good relationship."

"We do." She refrained from telling him that she and Robert had an ongoing competition who could scare more junior-associates or that she sometimes liked to taunt new secretaries, once or twice having made one of them cry. She wasn't sure why, though. Normally she liked to provoke men she had dates with, trying out how far she could go. Most of them didn't care because they were too busy gluing their eyes to her cleavage. Still, this time she had the weird und most unwelcome feeling that Jarod would not approve and she did not want that.

He would not understand why she needed so desperately to play those games and she was still too haunted by what had happened to cause her need to feel powerful and in control to tell him about it. Not letting him see that part of her was nothing but cautious since he struck her as the kind of person who could easily see through façades, even if they had been as elaborately built as hers.

"Is he a lawyer, too?" Jarod asked, the pile of food on his plate having shrunk considerably. Had she been deep in thought again without even noticing? She straightened up, urging herself mentally to get a grip.

"Yes. We work at the same firm."

She didn't tell him why.

"Then you must see a lot of each other."

"Sometimes we meet after midnight at the coffee-machine."

"You seem to work a lot."

"Yes."

Again, she didn't tell him why.

Noticing that her glass was empty, she reached for the bottle the same instant that he did and their hands met, his fingertips brushing lightly across the back of her hand. Her stomach turned over and her insides churned. Then he poured her more wine and the moment was over, leaving her with a feeling of dread. How pathetic! She'd met this man only hours ago and already she had difficulty concentrating on anything else than his lips moving…

"Now, Jarod. Why did you pick this particular job? Judging from the mountain-ranges of files in your office you do your share of nightshifts yourself."

He leaned closer, pretended to look around as if to make sure that nobody was eavesdropping and whispered: "They're not real. Most of them are fakes."

She dropped her chin onto her elbow and raised an eyebrow that she knew to have cost a couple of men their sanity in the past.

"Is that so? And how did you get them to look so worn and used?"

"Kicked them around the street."

She laughed and emptied the last of her wine. If he had noticed how much she'd been drinking, he didn't comment. He probably didn't since she barely felt the effects. Knowing very well that after more than half a bottle of wine that wasn't a particularily good sign, she shrugged the thought off.

"Now, we'll have to start early tomorrow morning," she said, giving in to her own habit to _always_ be the one to end a date. Except this wasn't a date, of course. "I'm rather tired."

"Yep. Me, too. Am probably going to fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow," he replied, signalling for the waiter who approached them with the cheque a mere moment later.

The hotel room was cosy and surprisingly upscale for a small town like Blue Cove. One of the many things about this town that were odd. As if it had been different once and had changed over the last years, only few traces remaining of a different past.

Wow, she had probably seen one too many horror-movies. Courtesy of her chronic insomnia- if you didn't want to watch erotic movies or stupid commercials all night, which she took no interest in, it had to be horror-movies or thrillers.

Miss Parker sighed and shrugged out of her silk blouse and skirt, stretching for a moment while in her underwear, then grabbed her pyjamas and headed for the minibar. With her hand on the doorknob she surveyed the generous range of spirits, then shook her head and slammed the door shut. She'd never had a problem with alcohol in her old life. She'd even gone weeks without it without ever noticing when she'd been in the middle of a trial. She wouldn't make it a habit now. Drowning her fears and washing her grief away were the last thing she needed right now.

She'd vowed never to try a criminal case in court again but had made the decision so quickly, that she'd only had time to wonder when she'd already arrived in this weird little town. Beautiful it was, that was out of question. Not as huge and hectic as the city of Boston that she had spent most of her life in. She walked over to the window and pulled the thin curtains aside to have a look at the park that adjoined the hotel building. And froze.

There was something in the dark, behind the trees. A person. Staring up at her. Her heart started racing, her hands immediatley became moist. She couldn't tell whether it was female or male. She tried to catch her breath but failed, her body so alert that she imagined she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins at the speed of light.

Not again. She had vowed this to never happen again. No more panic attacks- no more people making her feel weak and helpless. She straightened her shoulders and watched in horror as the figure approached slowly, unscathed by her having spotted him. She could see it was a man now, could see his face with sudden clarity and tried to scream, tried to fight, but something was keeping her from moving.

Only when he placed his hand on her cheek and gave her his vicious smile, she managed tried to scream.

"No… nooooo!"

She sat up suddenly, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath laboured. The sun shone in through the yellow curtains, casting a warm light on her bed. She tried to breathe more slowly, counted her breaths and told herself that everything was alright. She then exhaled and looked at her cell-phone on the nightstand. In ten minutes she would have had to get up anyway, so there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. She stood on shaky legs and walked into the bathroom to take a cold shower. That, an aspirin against the headache and a cup of hot strong coffee were the only things that would make her feel remotely alive again.

An hour later she was wearing a steel grey suit, stiletto heels and a killer expression. Now she'd have a look at that Sydney Greene and find out what the hell this stupid game was about.

If last night's nightmares had taught her one thing, it was why she had accepted this case: To become her old self again. Running away from what had happened was wrong. She wasn't weak, she didn't hide. She was strong and would get through it. The nightmares, the memories, the pain. She was Miss Parker after all. And why that Mister Greene knew her first name she would get out of him in time.

Assured by the staccato of her heels on the floor, she held her head high and headed for the door.

**Rock Cove, Maine- the past**

Ben watched Catherine crouch down to be on eye-level with her toddlers who were engrossed in the picture book he had given them earlier.

Although she tried to hide it, her grief showed horribly from the way she carried herself to the long breaths she took to avoid breaking into tears in front of her kids.

Little Barbara looked up, smiling and pointing at a picture in the book. He watched Catherine's graceful hand cup her cheek and stroke her hair that, despite her young years, was already almost as dark as her mother's.

Lyle, fair-haired and full of energy jumped up and returned his mother's hug enthusiastically while his sister was more interested in the book.

After a while Catherine finally got up and gave a small wave while she turned around in order to hide the tears from her children.

Ben accompanied her into the hallway, his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you sure about this, Catherine?"

She turned around, no longer able to keep the tears from streaming down her cheeks. "I am. Please take care of them, will you?"

Ben nodded and gave her a squeeze. He felt her body tremble against his while the sobs shook it.

"I will do everything. There is nothing to worry about, Catherine."

"Thank you."

She turned away, face smeared with tears and the twinkle that usually lit up her blue eyes vanished as if it would never return. Ben knew that it probably wouldn't.

He watched Catherine's car drive away down the street until it was gone.

She had made the ultimate sacrifice to save her children. That even made him love her more. And maybe she'd find a chance to return someday. Maybe there was some justice in the world that would grant happiness to those who, after years of pain and sorrow, truly deserved it.

He turned around and walked back into the house.

Only moments later a group of birds fluttered up into the beautiful blue spring's sky as the first gunshots broke the peaceful silence.

**TBC**

* * *


End file.
